


Charlie Weasley and the Sneaking Suspicion

by Brachylagus_fandom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Dragons, Gen, Lockhart gets busted, Obliviation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brachylagus_fandom/pseuds/Brachylagus_fandom
Summary: Charlie Weasley and the Sneaking Suspicion - When Gilderoy Lockhart is announced as Hogwarts' new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Fred and George send their older brother a copy of Dueling with Dragons to mock. However, amidst basic factual errors and ridiculous grandstanding, there's a story that Charlie finds awfully familiar…
Comments: 30
Kudos: 152
Collections: Worldbuilding Exchange 2020





	1. The Book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fencesit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencesit/gifts).



It started, as most adventures do, on a Tuesday. Charlie had just finished his feeding rounds when a slightly singed Errol landed on the windowsill of the Dragonkeepers' HQ. Scratching Errol under the chin and leaving him some food and water, Charlie sat down to examine the owl's package. It was too early for it to be his Christmas present, marked with a stern _Do NOT Open Before the 25th of December!,_ wasn't it?

The package contained a letter addressed _To Our Bestest Big Brother_ and a Gilderoy Lockhart book titled _Dueling with Dragons_ ; the cover featured Lockheart, shooting his signature at the audience, firing a stunner _(like_ that _would do anything against a dragon,_ Charlie thought) at a (ridiculously oversized) Hungarian Horntail. Placing the book on top of the "Bad Dragon Books - 'Nonfiction'" stack, Charlie sat down to read the letter.

_Hey Charliekins,_

_Guess who our new DADA professor is. Hint: this is one of our schoolbooks!_

_As you can guess, Mum's excited, but Forge and I took one look at this book and knew our favorite brother needed to see it as well. (Gred highly recommends page 394.) Feel free to tell us what you think of it or to give us any questions to ask Lockfart._

_Happy reading,_

_Your Favourite Little Brothers_

Charlie bit back a laugh and a grimace. If Fred and George had sent him this, then it had to be _terrible;_ the last dragon book his family had given him was a pulp romance that Bill had picked up on the streets of muggle Cairo, and it had created an entire new category in the reserve's "Worst Dragon Book of the Year" competition. He and Sasha had quoted parts of it back and forth for _months._ Charlie leafed to page 394 and stared at it, his mind unable to take in its contents other than the thought that this would _definitely_ win a Best in Category, if not Best Overall (the novel Sasha had sent back from the airport on his way to Antarctica _had_ contained a very compelling subplot as well as the weird muggle fascination with dragon animagi), this year.

"When did we get a book from that git?" Charlie jumped; Crina, his colleague, was standing in front of him in full fire gear with a whistle looped around her neck. "I was about to go visit the outreach group when I saw you reading _that."_ She gestured at the book in his hand.

"My brothers just sent it," Charlie said.

"The one we got Norbert from?" Crina asked.

"No, the twins," he said. "Apparently, Lockhart's their Defence professor this year." Crina raised her eyebrows.

"Why on Earth would someone hire that git?" she asked. Charlie shrugged.

"Dumbledore works in strange ways," he said. "It has 'Ten Top Tips for Clean Cuticles in Combat.'" She cackled.

"Save it till tomorrow morning," she said. "We _need_ to read this together."

***

 _"'After my perilous encounter with the vampires of Vascau'-"_

"-which you can read about in my bestelling novel _Voyages with Vampires,_ " Crina, who had flung herself dramatically across HQ's most comfortable couch (leaving Charlie with the overstuffed, slightly burned chair with the best light), interrupted. Noticing the superscript 1 at the end of the sentence, Charlie quickly leafed to the reference section at the back of the book and laughed.

"That's actually a footnote," he said. _"'After my perilous encounter with the Vampires of Vascau, I decided to take a break from monster-fighting and go on a well-earned holiday. My good friend Oriana Spinks, who writes_ The Daily Prophet's _travel column,_ r _ecommended a delightful magical village in the north of Sweden, a few miles away from Helsinki.'"_

"...The git thinks Helsinki is in the _north_ of _Sweden_? _"_ Crina hadn't sounded this indignant since she had first read _Voyages with Vampires._

"It's Lockhart; he's probably trying to set it next to the Kopparberg Reserve so he can outmatch the handlers." Charlie continued reading. "' _I arrived there shortly after Sunday brunch with the Dark Forces Defence League, where we had…'_ lengthy description of a buffet, apparently lemonade wards off ghoul attacks, next paragraph, _'My robes were the same verdant green as the nearby forests, and the ocean's crystal blue waves matched my eyes perfectly. I spent the afternoon getting ready for a parade the local people had immediately declared in my honor. After I styled my hair with Occamy Opposition to the Occult shampoo, which highlights the natural shine and texture of my hair while also providing low-level defence against dark magic, I realized my robes were in no way appropriate for such an occasion and changed into a midnight blue satin pair with golden stars embroidered on them that I had received as a rewards for defeating the Wagga Wagga Werewolf…'_ book plug, the robes match his hat, the locals shower him with flowers and affection, et cetera… ' _Unfortunately, just before the proceedings could begin, there was a great rumble from the mountains, and the citizens of the village immediately cried out and dashed for cover. Before I could ask what had happened, a dragon easily thirty yards high waddled into the village-'"_

 _"Waddled?_ Not swooped or crashed or creeped? And what kind of dragon grows to be that big?"

"It's a Lockhart book; what were you expecting?" Charlie asked. _"The dragon loomed menacingly over me, but I was not afraid; I quickly drew my wand and fired the Scale-Scalding Hex. The dragon, alarmed, whirled to face me; it bowed to me and raised its stubby right wing…"_ Charlie was momentarily distracted by the idea of a dragon with vestigial wings and how it could effectively hunt on land as he skimmed the next few paragraphs. "He's dueling the dragon… he's _dueling_ the _dragon_ like he's in a tournament… and the dragon's _dueling back…"_ Crina cackled and gestured for him to give her the book; Charlie, whose mind was still wrapping itself around what he had just read, gave it up willingly.

"So he duels the dragon, which somehow has a wand and can cast O.W.L.-level spells." Crina flipped ahead five pages. "There's no explanation of how a dragon snuck into Durmstrang and learned offensive magic; I guess he thinks that when we say "dragons are inherently magical" we mean "dragons are like wizards in the shape of an overgrown reptile?" He kills the dragon because he is The Most Talented Git, _'but as the dragon finally fell, it let out a great belch of fire,'_ which doesn't burn off the git's hair, such a shame, _'and eighteen other dragons, each as massive as the first, descended on the town."_ Charlie frowned; something about this story sounded familiar, but he couldn't place exactly _what._ _"They looked like a cross between the Swedish Short-Snout and the infamous Hungarian Horntail, a form so monstrous that it could not have been formed by nature'_ \- and _there's_ the implication that the actual experts are illegally and unethically cross-breeding species I was waiting for - ' _Their mutilated wings, bedecked with sharp copper claws, flapped menacingly as they belched flames over the town, setting buildings alight. Quickly, I casted Flame-Freezing Charms on the town's major buildings before spelling the dragons with a Scintillating Smell Hex, which made them smell like fresh fish to each other. The dragons began to fight amongst each other, eager for food that they couldn't see wasn't there, and crushed buildings in the town. To lead them away, I shot off fireworks from my wand, and the Stonecrappers chased it back over the mountains."_ Charlie shot up from his chair.

"That's it!" he cried as he ran to his personal bookshelf. It took him mere moments to find his well-loved, slightly singed, signed copy of Marcelo Garza's _The Magical Biome of Deception Island - Third Edition;_ after a second's consideration, he grabbed Sasha's fifth edition version as well. He dashed back to where Crina, looking bemused, was now sitting up. "Something about Lockhart's story sounded familiar, and his typo reminded me where I'd heard it before." He tossed Crina Sasha's copy _._ "Look at the description of Antarctican Stonecrackers, probably around page 23. ' _The Antarctican Stonecracker dragon_ Dracaris antarctica _, which appears to be endemic to Deception Island's shield volcano, closely resembles the chinstrap penguin and was mistaken for such on early Antarctic expeditions. It was first officially observed in December 1967, when one got too close to Aguirre Cerda Research Station's broadcast tower and was killed.'"_

_"'Its corpse attracted eighteen other members of the species,'"_ Crina, who had just found the page, read, _"'which began to set the station alight with their fiery breath and excrement. In order to save my colleagues, I threw a bucket of fish oil over the nearest specimens and a pair of Dungbombs, given to me by my brother before I left, eight or nine metres away. This provided enough of a distraction for the sixteen of us to escape.'"_ Her eyes flicked to the top of the page, and Crina snorted. "Lockhart got swarmed by a bunch of three-foot-tall pseudobirds and decided to turn it into an epic battle against a pack of grossly oversized dragons?"

"I don't think he got swarmed by Stonecrackers at all," Charlie said. Crina's eyes widened.

"That _git."_ Crina paused. "Should we tell Sasha about it? If you're right, then we need someone who can find all the similarities between his story and Garza's…" Crina looked at the copy of _Evolutionary Pressures on Magical Antarctican Species_ that Sasha had left out in a corner of HQ's living room.

"Not until we know for sure," Charlie said. "Garza might have sold his story to Lockhart, or he might've read the story somewhere else…" The explanations sounded weak even to him. "I'll Portkey to Chile on my next day off."

***

Charlie portkeyed into Santiago just before dawn local time, and he reached the Garza dragon ranch by midmorning. A young woman was waiting for him next to a pack of Andean Shortears (a relatively small and docile species of dragon that Charlie had not previously had the pleasure of seeing in person).

"Papa's waiting up at the main house," she said. She gave the Shortear closest to her a final scratch behind its rounded, upright ear and started walking. "He was so excited to get your letter; no one's asked him about his research in ages."

"His book on Deception Island was the first book on magical creatures I ever owned," Charlie said; his parents had given him _The Magical Biome of Deception Island_ as a ninth birthday present, and he had loved it from the second he saw the photograph of a juvenile Stonecracker, still gray and fluffy, sneezing sparks on the front cover. "My friend Sasha's looking for magifauna around McMurdo and wanted more detail on your father's experiences."

"Best of luck to your friend - the only magical species down there found intentionally are the color-changing lichens," the woman said.

"And the Antarctic Orangebills," Charlie said. The woman laughed.

"I can assure you that accident had everything to do with _that,"_ the woman said. "Dr. Marisela Garza. I just got off a five-year hitch down there." Charlie gasped as he shook her hand.

"Charlie Weasley," he said. "I read your paper on the niche of pseudobirds in the South Shetland Islands. It was _amazing_ \- Sasha _wouldn't shut up about it_ \- can I get your autograph?" Marisela laughed.

"Charlie!" a man with greying hair and burn scars down his face and neck, sitting in a rocking chair on the ranch house's porch, called out. "I see my littlest fan's not that little anymore!" Charlie laughed.

"It's good to see you, Mr. Garza," Charlie said as he and Marisela sat down. "How have you been doing?"

"Better since your letter arrived," Marcelo said. "There's not much I can do here outside of breeding season and preparing for market. How are you?"

"Pretty well," Charlie said. "The rehabilitation program at the reserve is doing really wekk, and our outreach candidates are pretty successful so far. Oh, and one of our handlers just got a research fellowship to look for magifauna at McMurdo, and I said I knew just the person to ask for tips…" Marcelo chuckled.

"Marisela would be of more help than me, I'm afraid," he said. "I only saw the Stonecrackers once, and I'm still unsure how we all made it out alive." Charlie frowned; so did Marisela.

"You used the techniques you learned to deal with dragons here to distract the Stonecrackers so you and your colleagues could escape," she said.

"I gave the Stonecrackers a dead goat and sent up a flare?" Marcelo said. _(He said it like a question,_ Charlie thought. _Why did he say it like a question?)_ "I thought my colleagues and I just sent out a distress signal and fled the site."

"You dumped fish oil on one and accidentally on fire, but the others just swarmed it and kept burning the station. Then you threw dungbombs because you thought they'd follow the noise and smell like the Vipertooths do." Marcelo hummed.

"I suppose I did," he said. Charlie's stomach sank as any chance the similarities had been coincidental or Marcelo _had_ sold his story vanished.

"Are you forgetting again? Mama told me you've been forgetting things more often, do you need to go to the doctor?"

"I'm _fine,_ Marisela, just getting old. Your mother forgot where she put the paddock keys yesterday, and you're not bugging her about it!"

"There's one other thing," Charlie, shifting slightly in his seat. "A few weeks ago, I received this from my brothers." He gave Marcelo _Dueling with Dragons,_ which he and Crina had spent the past week highlighting. "The story on page 20 seemed familiar." Marcelo quickly flipped the book open and scanned it, then frowned.

"I don't understand…" he said. "This Lockhart used my methods, down to the order of events, on thirty-metre dragons?"

"I think it might be more than that," Charlie said. "My friend Crina and I highlighted all the similarities Lockhart's story has to your own." Three-quarters of the page was bright yellow. "We thought you might have sold your story to him, but…"

"I didn't," the man said. "I haven't even thought of it in almost a year."

"Did Lockhart ever come here?" Charlie asked. "Maybe three or four years ago, right before this book was published?"

"No," Marcelo said. "I haven't been asked about my work in _years_ , let alone by someone who dressed like that." However, his daughter's eyes lit up.

"Two years into my assignment," Marisela said, "so right in the middle of Charlie's timeframe, you mentioned an Englishman in your letters. Said he was looking into making a dragon-based hair conditioner. Very charming, but a bit dim?" Marcelo frowned but eventually nodded.

"I suppose I did," he muttered under his breath. "Yes, I remember it now. Showed up in late April, stayed for two weeks, asked me all sorts of things about dragons…" He drew in a breath. "And, probably, my adventures in Antarctica, though I don't remember it. He looked a fair bit like that fellow, too," Marcelo tapped Lockhart's face on the cover of _Dueling with Dragons,_ "now that I think about it." He took a deep breath. "I trust he's being investigated?"

"I'll tell the aurors as soon as I get back," Charlie said, "and if that doesn't work, I'll confront him myself." There was a lengthy pause. "So, how does a dragon ranch actually work?" he asked. "All my magizoology training's been on reserves."

"Well, as you can see, we use a lot more land than cattle ranches," Marcelo said. "Though our land is much drier; the dragons like the aridity. There are twenty-four dragon nests, about half of which are Andean Shortears; they're very docile, very sociable, and that makes herding so much easier. Though they get _nasty_ with each other; we're looking to rehome a few of them due to injuries. Out towards the east we have a warded paddock for Peruvian Vipertooths, which we keep for their venom, very useful in a few high-strength healing potions. To the west-"

Charlie left the ranch a few hours later with notes on pack management in a variety of species, two vials of Vipertooth venom, a juvenile Shortear with an irreparably damaged right wing and no sight in her right eye, and the autographs of two of his favorite magizoologists. He needed to make a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stonecracker is another name for chinstrap penguins, which have an adult height of 30 inches. For scale, the largest dragon in HP canon is a little bit bigger than a T-Rex, and 30 yards is roughly the length of a blue whale.


	2. The Plan

"Any news from the Aurors?" Crina, who was carrying an extra bag of treats for the outreach candidates and whose robes were still slightly smoking from feeding the Ridgebacks, asked. Charlie was jealous; his eyebrows hadn't yet grown back since the last time he had fed Norbert. (Or maybe Norberta - the dragon was unusually aggressive for a male, even a male Ridgeback, and definitely preferred the female dragon handlers.) "It's been over a month."

"No," Charlie said. "The only letter I've gotten recently was from the Garzas asking how Soledad is settling." He scratched the juvenile Shortear behind her left ear; she had taken to the training program amazingly well, even if she was still aggressive with anyone and anything that came up on her blind side. "Frankly, at this point, I don't think we're going to get a response."

"So we need to confront the git ourselves," Crina said.

"How?" Charlie asked. "We're two random dragon handlers - I don't even have my mastery yet - and he's a celebrity teacher at…" Charlie paused as a thought struck him. "When are we going to start doing outreach trials?"

"About a month if things go well with the Minister," Crina said. "Why?"

"Lockhart likes thinking he's the expert," Charlie says, "so if two _actual_ experts show up - especially at Hogwarts, which he probably thinks of as _his_ turf…"

"He'd walk right into a trap! Do you really think we could get invited to Hogwarts?" Charlie laughed.

"I know their Care of Magical Creatures professor," he said as he walked back to HQ to get some parchment. "He spends his free time at dragon reserves - when he's not finding new dangerous creatures to almost eat him. He'd try to pet _Norbert_ if he saw him." After a moment's thought, Charlie grabbed a second roll of parchment; the twins would definitely want to help with this.

***

The first Wednesday of the school year, Fred and George had almost been excited to have their first class with Lockhart; the second, they had still been laughing about lilac-scented quizzes and eager to find something else to mock. By the third week, however, the novelty had worn off, and by the fifth, they were regretting not trying to convince Lockhart that they were only one person.

"He would've bought it!" Fred said. "He certainly bought 'our last names are pronounced differently to help us acquire strong senses of self' even if he can't remember the pronunciations!"

"To be fair, we do change them every time he calls on us," George said. "But McGonagall might've backed us up for once! Whisley/Weaselay wasn't even that funny when we were firsties!"

"The unrealized possibilities…"

"We could've switched off who had to watch him drink that _disgusting-"_ The twins were interrupted by the arrival of a slightly singed barn owl; it carried a letter and an equally charred package. "Gred, why'd we get a package from Charlie?"

"Probably because we sent him your copy of _Drooling with Dragons."_ Indeed, the package did contain a copy of _Dueling with Dragons_ that looked like it had lost at least one fight with a wall _._ George opened the book with some trepidation, wondering if it was about to explode into rainbow confetti or dye him purple (or burst into flame and scream at him like a Howler), but all it contained were densely packed notes, in at least two colors of ink and three sets of handwriting, in the margins. Fred opened the letter; like the book, it lacked even the mild revenge of itching powder in its folds.

"He says thanks for the most terrible book he's read so far this year, might win as many awards at the one Bill sent, commentary has been added and any explanations Lockhart gives would be appreciated…" Fred suddendly grew quiet and shoved the letter under his twin's nose. George quickly scanned it, and his eyes widened.

"You think he has proof?" he asked in a whisper.

"It's Charlie; he probably has sworn testimony taken under Veritaserum."

"I mean, if this is true, then we have no choice but to do what he asks as moral, upstanding citizens and representatives of Hogwarts' finest house…"

"And it wouldn't be a problem if we enjoyed it a little bit, either. When do we start _Drooling with Dragons,_ again?" Fred consulted his (scented and sparkling) syllabus.

"About mid-November."

"I can't wait."

***

Charlie was making himself breakfast and wondering if he could train Soledad to breathe fire on command (in addition to _not_ breathing it around people) when an eagle owl landed on HQ's windowsill. Passing it some of the raw bacon he was about to fry, Charlie opened the letter excitedly. It was definitely a Hogwarts owl - he swore they all learned the "respond in a timely manner, foolish mortal" glare from McGonagall - and it had been a few weeks since his letter had arrived; if he was lucky…

Charlie's shout of joy woke Crina, who was taking her afternoon shift as an excuse to sleep in. "They said yes!" he said as she was preparing to hex him. Crina blinked, nodded, and promptly went back to sleep.

Several hours later, once the sun had properly risen, she read the letter, which Charlie left on the kitchen counter.

_Mister Weasley,_

_Headmaster Dumbledore has approved your request, and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has provided permits for up to four creatures whose total weight is no more than one ton under the proviso that you meet with them beforehand to provide a risk assessment. In addition, the Skye Sanctuary and Cardiff Conservatory both wish for you to meet with them to help them establish similar programs._

_Your presentation will take place on the shore of the Great Lake and is currently scheduled from 3 to 5 p.m. on the sixteenth of February; if this date is not suitable, send an owl as soon as possible. In light of recent events, Hogwarts would appreciate it if you covered some general aspects of defence against magical creatures as well as the life of a dragon handler._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_ _  
_ _Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"The date's good; we haven't booked that far in advance yet," Crina said. "What are the 'recent events' she's talking about?" Charlie blinked and read the letter again; he hadn't gotten past the first sentence the first time.

"Probably the attack in the _Prophet_ a few weeks ago," he said. "The caretaker's cat got petrified on Halloween, and someone wrote that the Chamber of Secrets - old blood purist bollocks that is probably just myth," he added at her confused look, "had been opened."

"Huh," Crina said. "Which dragons should we bring? Ilka's way too big, Codrin gets portkey-sick, Soledad still attacks people who sneak up on her right side, and most of the others are still territorial…" Crina's eyes lit up. "Think I can call in a favor with Sasha? I mean, pseudobirds _are_ taxonomically dragons…" Charlie laughed.

"Do it," he said.

***

The first "lesson" on _Dueling with Dragons_ started much like every other Defence "lesson" the third years had suffered through that year. At the start of class, Lockhart collected their homework (an eight-inch reflective statement on what they had learned from _Voyages with Vampires)_ and spent a few minutes skimming over it and voicing his reactions. "Very nice, Miss Campbell, and I appreciate your detail on incorporating stakes and crosses into fashionable eveningwear… Mister Weasley-"

"It's pronounced Whiesley!"

"-It's great that these classes have improved your improvisational skills, but you were asked to reflect on the _text,_ not my excellent teaching skills… and _Mister Weasley-"_

"It's pronounced Weezly!"

"-The people of Romania are _not_ all vampires or thralls! Some are perfectly nice people! Wherever did you get that impression?" Lockhart tutted as he continued reading.

"I'm _scandalized_ that none of you mentioned that one use of my Simple Solution for a Sparkling Smile is as a vampire repellent!" Lockhart picked up the bottle of a clear, carbonated beverage that had been sitting on his desk. "Not only does the garlic in it protect against vampires, but a splash of fresh lemon juice defends against dementors, hags, and yellow teeth!" Lockhart took a sip of the concoction and flashed his trademark grin at a the third row of students and about twelve degrees to the left of center as if he was expecting someone to take a promotional picture. "Now, onto business." Lockhart flicked his wand, and the words _Defence Against Dragons_ wrote themselves in lilac cursive across the top of the board. "What did you learn from the first fourteen chapters of _Dueling with Dragons_ about methods of fighting dragons?" Cedric raised his hand confidently. "Yes, Mister Diggory?"

"You could distract the dragon from yourself and its other intended targets," he said. "That's what the Tokes did during the Ilfracombe Incident, and their success at creating bright lights - along with their proficiency at memory charms, of course," Lockhart momentarily choked on his garlic-lemon soda, "contributed greatly to their success. In the text, you turned the dragons against each other with the enchanted scent of food, but a transfigured prey animal or bright light would work in a one-on-one rather than group confrontation. Another possible solution would be an adverse-"

"That's a very detailed answer, Mister Diggory," Lockhart said as the chalk wrote _Distraction_ on the board. He grinned; the writing on the board twinkled. "And I did employ distraction against the Bergslagen Brobdingnags the first time I faced them, but if you read Chapter 1 closely, you'll remember that, although effective, it didn't actually defeat the dragons; they would still have been able to do quite a bit of damage if I hadn't erected a shield charm. If you are confronted by a dragon, it can also be quite difficult to remember how to cast complex spells; certainly, when I faced a racket of banshees in a bog. I was inexperienced, barely out of Hogwarts and with no idea what glory awaited me as I fought _Ua Briain_ and her dozens of underlings for the sake of the poor farmers nearby… Ah, but that's a story for another time. What would be a more successful way of defending against a dragon?"

"Hide behind something fireproof," Alicia muttered under her breath; beside her, Fred snorted. George raised his hand.

"Ah, Mister Weezly," Lockhart said, "what would your strategy be?"

"It's pronounced Whisley, sir," George said, "and I had a question about that, sir. Most of the times you face the dragons you use a…" George paused and looked down at his notebook, "'Scale-Scalding Hex,' your Orderliness of Merlin, but my brother works at a dragon reserve, sir, and he said he's never hear of such a spell, sir! And he would know, your Wizardliness, because he's getting his mastery in Care of Magical Creatures with a focus in Dragon Handling and Fighting, sir. He also said, oh Great Defender of the Defenceless, that dragons don't grow that big-"

"Well, it is a very obscure spell," Lockhart said. "I only discovered it when I was searching Lindisfarne manuscripts for a counter to the Transmogrification Torture! I can imagine it fell out of use after that period because of its grisly effects; I was nearly put off my welcoming feast when I first performed it! It also takes a lot out of you; I would have fainted if I didn't keep Pepper-Up Potions on my person…"

"My brother - the one who won the Tilly Toke Award for Advancement in Dragon Defence last year, sir, the youngest recipient ever - says that the best methods for defeating and defending against dragons were distraction, like Cedric said, your Magicalness, and sedating charms. When the Horntails at the Romanian dragon reserve - where he is one of the senior handlers, sir - tried to destroy the handlers' housing, your Supreme Sparkliness, he actually used a muggle invention called," George again looked down at his notes, "'elephant tranquilizers,' which are, I believe, a projectile version of the Drought of Living Death, and this was very successful, sir; not even the Chief Handler's Pomeranian puppy was injured, Great Defeater of the Dastardly Dastardlinesses."

"I, ah, can see how that would be an effective strategy," Lockhart said; he was now sweating. "However, that requires significant preparation ahead of time, which I did not have in Sweden. Now, if your brother has any advice on spur-of-the-moment defenses, I'd be happy to hear them, but I find that-"

"I don't know what he'd recommend for that situation, your Bestsellingness," Fred said, carefully _not_ saying anything about said situation's plausibility, "but we could ask him in a couple of months, sir; he's going to come to Hogwarts to give a special presentation on dragons, your Brilliancy." Lockhart paused for a minute before answering.

"Ah, I'd just heard about that this morning," he said, "and I was hoping to tie that event into today's lesson, so thank you, Mister Whiesley!"

"It's pronounced 'Whæslay,' sir," Fred said.

"Yes, that's it!" Lockhart said. "Now, as I was saying, I will offer extra credit to anyone who goes to the dragon handling presentation next spring and writes me a five-inch reflective statement tying it to my work. Given the lack of adequate responses to my question, I believe we should do a bit of roleplay. Mister Diggory, would you please come up here and play me? And you Gryffindors in the back, why don't you be the dragons?" As the students groaned and moved into place, Lockhart noted that he needed to talk to Wheaslay's dragon handling brother; someone like that would certainly have stories to tell and few people to tell them to otherwise, and another visit to the devious dragon reserve wouldn't seem too rushed in a few years; he could call it _Dancing with Dragons,_ or maybe a direct sequel _Disclosing the Dragons_ where the dastardly dragon handlers' cross-breeding/smuggling ring is brought to justice like that incident in Romania a few years ago…


	3. The Truth

The weather in Antarctica wasn't exactly _pleasant_ by anyone's definition, but Charlie had definitely been colder than when he, Crina, and Soledad (safely secured in her transport crate) were waiting a mile outside McMurdo station for Sasha to appear. (Of course, he hadn't been this cold in _summer,_ but he had dressed for Hogwarts in February, so he was quite warm.)

Five minutes after they arrived, Sasha, grinning in a way Charlie typically associated with conning dragon smugglers and carrying a bulky wooden crate with air holes in the top, apparated next to them.

"Poppy and her food are in here," Sasha said. "Just bring her back before my shift tomorrow morning. She'll probably sleep through the presentation, but she's hand-reared and pretty good with people when she's awake."

"Anything else we should know?" Charlie asked. Sasha just grinned wider.

"Just that I've missed you all, "and that if your brother's found another dragon, it's my turn to name it. Get the bastard good for me!" Before either Charlie or Crina could say anything, Sasha had shoved the box, which had _WARNING! DANGER!_ stenciled onto its sides in large red letters, into Charlie's arms and disapparated.

"Think there's a real Stonecracker in the box?" Crina asked.

"Probably," Charlie said as he opened the lid and peeked inside; when he saw its contents, he nearly dropped the box laughing.

"What?" Crina looked in the box. "Well, we did ask _Sasha_ for help. Shouldn't have expected anything else."

***

When their portkey landed on Hogwarts' south lawn, Charlie was still laughing. However, that laughter quickly died out when he saw who was waiting for them. 

"Mister Weasley." Snape scowled at them. "And Miss…"

"Constantin," Crina said. 

"I assume you've insulated your animals adequately?" 

"We're professionals, sir." Crina glared at Snape; he sneered back.

"Very well," Snape said. "There were concerns from… certain parties that you may downplay the risks and emphasize the excitement of your profession. To prevent that, I have brewed this." Snape took two vials of a sickly yellow potion from his robes. "Do you happen to remember this potion, Mister Weasley? You earned your only _P_ in my class for an essay on it and its derivatives."

"I'm afraid not, sir." Charlie shook his head. Snape sighed.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he muttered under his breath. "This potion is known as verax responsorialis. It was the first effective truth potion ever brewed; it causes the subject to respond to any question with the first statement to cross their mind. However, it fell out of favor in the twelfth century once more accurate - and subtler - truth serums were developed."

"Subtler?" Crina asked.

"Verax, unlike its derivative veritaserum, has a noticeable garlic odor and taste," Snape said. "Typically, it was served with food so the victim would mistake its taste for seasoning, after which a confession could be engineered; such techniques would probably still work on… _certain parties_ at Hogwarts." Snape gave Charlie the vials; he gave one to Crina, who pocketed it, and put the other in his own pocket. "The Headmaster has suggested that you ingest the potion shortly before you begin taking questions from the students so that your responses are truthful. A lot of the students are quite excited for this… program. I recommend that you do not let them down." With that, Snape turned on his heel and began walking back up to the castle.

"Is he always like that?" Crina asked.

"I think that's the nicest he's ever been to me," Charlie said.

"...Is there pink confetti in his hair?"

"I don't want to know."

***

By the time students started gathering by the lake, Crina had conjured a low stage to keep some distance between them and the animals, and Charlie was holding the leash connected to Soledad's harness as she stretched her legs. The students, perhaps scared by a dragon the size of a draft horse whose amber scales were gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, thankfully stayed well off from the stage. Charlie waved them over.

"She's well-trained, don't worry," Charlie said. "Obviously, you shouldn't pet wild dragons, or even most of the dragons we have at the reserve, but," Charlie dropped his voice to a whisper as if he was sharing a big secret, "Soledad likes it if you scratch behind her left ear, like this." Charlie demonstrated, and Soledad's tail thumped against the stage as she wagged it. The crate on at the back of the stage, which looked large enough to comfortably house a Great Dane, rattled in response. "Wanna try?" One of the students, a Ravenclaw who had to have been the tiniest third year Charlie had ever met, petted Soledad warily.

"She's so _warm."_

"Yes, she is," Charlie said. "Despite being reptilian, dragons have evolved to be warm-blooded so they can fly higher and live in colder climates. Plus, when I learned we'd be visiting Hogwarts in the winter, I knew I'd need a heat lamp." The students within earshot laughed and sat down in front of the stage; half an hour later, as the last of the students trickled in, Charlie started speaking. "Hello! My name, as most of you probably know, is Charlie Weasley! This is my colleague Crina Constantin, and since she thought up this whole program, I'm going to let her do most of the talking!" Crina, quickly casting a _Sonorous_ charm on herself, stepped forwards.

"Raise your hand if you think dragons are cool!" she said; most of the crowd's hands went up. "That's about what I expected; why would you come to a presentation about dragon handling if you think they're boring? Of course, dragons can be scary, especially in the wild, but they typically want to avoid _us_ just as much as we want to avoid _them_ ; dragons typically only venture into human-occupied lands when they've recently lost their territory, either to another dragon or to habitat destruction. And, when they're not trying to barbeque you, there's a lot of things about dragons that are pretty neat! For example, New World dragons, like Soledad here, have fully opposable talons on their feet, just like how you have opposable thumbs. High-five, girl!" Soledad lifted her right forepaw to tap Crina's offered hand lightly, her talons splayed out to show her opposable thumb. "Another neat thing is how dragons protect themselves from fire. Unlike what you might expect, they're not entirely fireproof; in fact, one of the other dragons we're rehabilitating at the reserve severely burned himself as an infant…" Crina continued listing interesting facts about dragons (Swedish Short-Snouts, unlike most other dragon species are actually feathered like birds! Dragons need to constantly sharpen their teeth by chewing hard things like rocks and bones! According to a recent paper by Marisela Garza, Peruvian Vipertooths exhibit a eusocial pack structure!) before eventually switching topics. 

"One of our most important jobs at the reserve is keeping wild dragons safe from poachers, smugglers, and the muggle public," Crina said. "This also means keeping the public safe from dragons. If you come across a dragon in the wild - say, on a beach or even in a muggle neighborhood - what's the first thing you should do?"

"Hide!" Fred, who was sitting near the back of the crowd, yelled. Crina laughed.

"Your more right than you think, Mister Weasley," she said.

"It's pronounced Weäßley!" Out of the corner of her eye, Crina saw Charlie flinch, and she swore he muttered, "that again?" under his breath.

"As untrained wizards, you should _not_ attempt to confront a dragon directly," Crina continued. "You should try to find cover nearby - say, under a pier or behind a rock - attempt to evacuate anyone else nearby, and contact the Ministry emergency line. Most dragons don't really care that much for humans and will move on after a minute or two. However, there are cases where you can't find nearby cover or a dragon will specifically target human settlements for food. What should you do then?"

"Obliviate people!" The crate on the stage rattled dangerously, and the student gulped.

"Well, muggles will have to eventually be obliviated, but we don't typically do that while an attack's going on; it distracts us a bit from dealing with the dragon. Other answers? Yellow tie in the back!"

"You distract it!" Cedric said.

"That's the answer I was looking for! Like I said, dragons typically don't seek out human settlements, so even a few sparks or a loud noise can frequently convince them to go somewhere else." Crina demonstrated by shooting silver sparks out of her wand; Soledad's eye tracked the lights, and she jumped after them. "Since we've got a good amount of time left, I think we're going to do a Q&A session on dragon handling. Charlie?" Charlie nodded and cast _Sonorous_ on himself.

"Since I started training here in Britain, I'll be answering most of your questions," Charlie said. "Feel free to ask about anything - training and education, day-to-day life, past experiences - just nothing personal. And, to make sure I give you my honest opinion, your _wonderful_ potions teacher gave me a mild truth potion this morning." Charlie pulled his vial of verax out of his pocket and, despite cries from the students of "don't!" and "it's a trap!", downed it in one gulp. He nearly spat it out as soon as its taste registered; it tasted like a cross between Italian food just starting to go off and wood polish. "Merlin, that's _disgusting!_ So, what's our first question?"

"What's in the box?" A round-faced Slytherin pointed at the crate at the back of the stage, which was now emitting purple smoke.

"I don't remember her doing that earlier," Charlie blurted out; he blinked as his mind actually processed the question. "It's a surprise from a friend of ours that we'll get to at the end."

"What's one misconception about your job?" A blonde Ravenclaw who was sitting next to Percy (why was Percy here? Didn't he want to go into the Department of Standards and Regulations, where the only creatures he'd have to deal with would be the doxies nesting in his paperwork?) and was holding his hand asked.

"It's pretty boring most of the time," Charlie said. Half the crowd looked shocked.

"It really is," Crina said. "We don't actually deal with dragon attacks and sightings all that often; most of our job is monitoring wild dragon populations and rehabilitating injured or orphaned dragons like this little lady." Crina scratched Soledad under her chin, and the dragon purred into her. "That's not to say it isn't rewarding - it really is - but anyone who thinks that it's all saving people from attacks and 'harnessing the true nobility within the beast,'" Charlie tried not to grin at the Lockhart quote, "to ride it needs to spend a few overnights with new hatchlings. Next question?"

"Why did you become a dragon handler in Romania?"

"I like dragons!" Charlie blurted. "Uh, that's why I became a handler in general; I've always thought dragons were cool and wanted to help them. I went to Romania because their reserve does a lot of important rehabilitative work and had positions open when I graduated Hogwarts. Next?"

"How do you become a dragon handler?"

"Lots of studying," Charlie said. "You need to have N.E.W.T.s in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures, obviously, but that'll only get you a residency; to actually get your license, you need to-" Charlie was interrupted by someone yelling to his right.

"Never fear!" Lockhart shouted. "I can defeat this dastardly beast with the Scale Scalding Hex!" Lockhart shot a beam of lilac light towards Soledad and Charlie, who was still holding her leash. Charlie felt a stiff, dry breeze and a sensation not unlike a mild sunburn where the spell hit; however, Soledad, who felt the spell hit her blind side, reared back and prepared to charge Lockhart. Charlie held fast to her leash as she, snorting fire, tried to lunge forwards; Crina grabbed onto the harness as Lockhart, batting at where sparks had fallen his lilac velvet robes, backed up. "Ah! What a dangerous creature; it would have severely burned if not for my Simple Solution for a Sparkling Smile!" Lockhart took a swig from the bottle of soda he had brought with him and smiled for an imaginary camera. "Mister Weasley-"

"It's actually pronounced Wèǎsléy," Charlie said with a straight face.

"-it's truly irresponsible of you to bring a creature of this level of danger to a learning institution such as this; the only creatures I've met that were more aggressive were the Bergslagen Brobdingnags I was forced to defeat in Sweden all those years ago! What sinister scheme were you hoping to advance by exposing Hogwarts' naive youth to such beasts?" Before Charlie could try to answer, the crate at the back of the stage rattled and emitted more smoke. "What in Merlin's name do you have in there? It sounds just like the mythical Fire Crab of the Seychelles, but those haven't been seen in the wild for the better part of a decade. In fact, I actually was the wizard lucky enough to find the last wild mating pair! I was so young then, just off my third book tour and busy researching my fourth bestseller _Marauding with Monsters_ \- but when Oriana Spinks offers you a week in an exclusive tropical resort, you don't say no! I discovered the couple just off the spotless white sand beach, where a couple of local boys were poking at them with a stick. Probably thought they'd make a good lunch - and fire-crab meat has the perfect balance of sweetness and spice! - but they had no idea what they were dealing with when their stick caught on fire…"

"We're transporting her for a friend," Charlie said, "and thought we might bring her out if we had extra time, but she's nothing dangerous, barely an XX…"

"So you're smuggling a creature, probably under a Beguilement Charm to hide its true size and weight! I'll reveal your dastardly deeds and daringly defeat this dastardly demon!" Lockhart, wildly gesticulating his wand in the crate's general direction, shouted. Crina snickered.

"I'll hold your drink while you do it," she said, and Lockhart handed the bottle to her. As she reached her other hand into her pocket, Charlie watched Lockhart approach the crate and cut it open with a massive severing charm. Smoke poured out of the mutilated crate and obscured its contents, which spit sparks at Lockhart. He stepped back and raised his wand.

"En garde!" Lockhart yelled as he bowed to the crate. "Fight me like a wizard, you monstrous cur!" The smoke cleared to reveal a juvenile Stonecracker, still grey and fluffy, raising her wings as if encouraging the wizard to pick her up. Lockhart shrieked and jumped back but tripped over his robes. He scrounged around for his wand as he stood up.

"What malicious magic is this?" Lockhart trained his wand on the Stonecracker and took a gulp of his drink, which Crina gave back to him as Charlie handed her Soldedad's leash. Charlie scooped the Stonecracker into his arms; she chirped and fell back to sleep.

"This is Poppy," he said. "She's a juvenile Antarctican Stonecracker, the first pseudobird species discovered. This young, they're basically harmless, as," Charlie looked around for a suitable victim and spotted the perfect candidate in the second row, "my baby brother Percy will demonstrate." Percy squawked as Charlie dumped Poppy into his lap, but she didn't set anything on fire as she snored sparks. "However, adult Stonecrackers can cause quite a bit of property damage; they were first discovered when they destroyed several Antarctic bases in 1968. Professor Lockhart, would you happen to know anything about that? The incident's very similar to how the dragons in your novel attacked."

"Just what Marcelo Garza told me." Lockhart blinked when what he said registered before resuming his trademark million-Lumos smile. "He was one of my brave companions in my daring dalliance through the Dragon Reserve! Knew a lot of very useful stuff about dragons!"

"Was he?" one of the students in the front row muttered.

"Of course not!" Lockhart was sweating now. "He, ah, had to stay behind to help with injuries, but he helped me extensively in my research of proper terminology!"

"Who is Marcelo Garza?" Charlie pressed; if someone dosed with verax said the first thing to some to mind, then asking for a description would hopefully make Lockhart say… 

"He's the squib whose memories I stole to write _Dueling with Dragons!"_ Lockhart looked vaguely panicked now. "I didn't mean to say that - I mean, it isn't true!"

"Isn't it?" Crina's voice and eyes were hard.

"It is!" Lockhart said. "It's true that I based the book on his experiences. I read Campbell's fantastic exposé on the shapeshifter threat - truly terrifying, that book - and I wanted to get a firsthand account, and this chap's experience in the Arctic came up… But I got his permission first! And it's not like anyone was going to read a book someone like _him_ wrote. I was doing him a favor, really, by listening to his story; I was the first person to ask him about it in _years,_ and he practically begged me to-"

"Are all your books like that?" a Slytherin near the back of the crowd asked.

"Yes! Yes, they're based on other people's adventures, for the most part. Mine are far too dangerous to risk even remotely encouraging someone to attempt. Why, after I vanquished the Wagga Wagga Werewolf, a young boy got-"

"Do you really wipe their memories?" someone near the back shouted.

"Of course! It's the only way to ensure they won't try to sue me, of course. But it's a small price to pay for someone to listen to their stories and have them heard by a wider audience. And I pay them for the pleasure! Besides, I'm sure none of them notice; it's not like the _muggles_ ever do!"

"Why obliviate them?" the blonde Ravenclaw, who was absentmindedly petting the Stonecracker in Percy's lap, asked. "Why don't you make them take a Nondisclosure Oath like the Unspeakables?"

"I can't do that!" Lockhart took another gulp of his drink. "I mean, I'm much better at Obliviation than oath-casting!"

"Then why didn't you join the Ministry and become an Obliviator?" Percy, oblivious to the sparks on his robes, asked.

"That's not special! Obliviators punch in and punch out, eight hours a day, five days a week with occasional overtime like boring nobodies, and I'm _not_ nobody! I'm special! I. Am. Special! If I were a Ministry Obliviator, I'd just be…" Lockhart gasped and stumbled into the shallows of the Great Lake. "Please, dear Merlin, don't let me be normal…" He flopped into the water dramatically. Most of the students turned their attention back towards Charlie, but Crina, who had one last question to ask, stepped forwards.

"What did you base _Voyages with Vampires_ on?" she asked.

"A series of vampire attacks in the remote Australian Outback!" Lockhart blurted out. "Not a very fitting setting for a killer coven if you ask me… please don't tell Dumbledore about this - no, you can tell him, just don't tell _Rita Skeeter…"_ Crina walked back towards Charlie.

"Any more questions?" she asked as Lockhart lay crying in the lake. "Yes, you with the yellow tie!"

"How do you maintain relationships with friends and family when on the reserve?"

"Not well!" Charlie said. "Letters, mostly, with occasional portkeys home; it's not safe to keep Floo powder on-reserve, but there's an open fireplace at the nearest town's pub. Quite frankly, reserve life is pretty isolating, but the same could be said for a wide range of magical jobs, and you grow really close to your coworkers."

"Uncomfortably close," Crina added. "Like, I did not need to know how _this one_ trims his nose hair." The crowd laughed. "It's a lot easier for me since I'm from Romania - I grew up in Vașcău - but I still don't get to see my family as often as I'd like. Next question?" The crowd was silent.

"Then let's give a round of applause to our guests," Kettleburn said; the students obliged. "It's not every day you get to pet a dragon, after all! Was there anything else you wanted to address, Charles?"

"I heard you have a basilisk problem?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Campbell's fantastic exposé on the shapeshifter threat" is _Who Goes There?_ , aka the source material for _The Thing_.


End file.
